Sunday, April 29, 2012

If I had a million dollars


My seat is always empty on days like these. It’s almost 30 years since I attended an ‘Old Firm’ match, and there’s a strong possibility that I may never again get the chance to avoid a game between Celtic (1888) and Rangers (1872), and guess what? I’ll not lose any sleep over it.

Rangers, as we know it, could go out of business any day now. Even if someone submits a bid to buy the club’s assets and its owner’s shares, can he afford to take on the club’s current and potential (tax) debts? I’m no accountant, but a large number of my fellow Celtic fans have learned a phenomenal amount about accounting and law through following the saga of our oldest rivals. What I am, is a football fan, hence my support for Celtic, and not Rangers.

As a football fan, I have tried to be objective, and I have tried to think how I would feel if the (football) boot were on the other foot. I might be devastated. I might be apathetic. I might be judgemental, like I was when we almost went out of business in the 90s, before Brian Dempsey and the Bunnet saved the club from extinction. My objectivity went out the window last week when Alistair McCoist, the cheeky chappy off the telly, opened his mouth and let his belly rumble. As a result, members of a secret SFA panel (which wasn’t a secret to Rangers, apparently) were threatened, and Raith Rovers had to get the polis in to stop its stadium being burned down. I got that last bit off the Internet, so it may not be strictly true, but what I, and everyone else, heard last week would have got Neil Lennon clapped in irons and sent to the Tower of London had he uttered it.

Rangers’ management, past and present, has a habit of shooting its mouth off in the media. If anyone tells me that Ally didn’t know what he was saying, then they are more deluded than anyone who believes anything David Murray, Craig Whyte or Duff and Phelps have ever said. McCoist, and his predecessor, Smith, have always known exactly what they were saying, and when and where to say it. What little sympathy the Rangers manager had has surely vanished. Hasn’t it?

The accountants of all the remaining SPL clubs are probably the ones who are losing most sleep at the prospect of being denied the revenue two visits from Rangers would yield. However, has Dundee United been paid what it is owed by Rangers for a cup-tie and a league game? Has Heart of Midlothian been paid for Lee Wallace? This is what it all comes down to: just how much are all the other clubs willing to let Rangers get away with.

If I was rich, I’d buy them, but the Newco would look totally different from the club it replaced. I’d allow them to play at Ibrox. I’d keep the name, well, I’d used the name; Rangers United or Rangers Athletic or something. I’d get them involved in the community, with children of all creeds and colours and, speaking of colours, I’d give them a makeover. No more the red, white and blue to match the Union flag. What about sky-blue, like Coventry, or a nice all-white ensemble? I’d get rid of the songs, too, and any hint of Orangeism. Yes, keep a club in Govan, but neuter it beyond all recognition, cleanse it of its sins.

Even if their worst nightmare (the 'Big Tax Case') doesn't materialise, it could take a lot more than a million dollars to save them. Any advance on 100 million? You can count me out, though. If I had money like that, I could think of many things I'd rather spend it on. Let them die.

In case you were wondering, we won 3-0.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Though April showers may come your way


April: the story so far:

Sunday 1st
Glasgow City Council decided to try again and resurface my street. Unfortunately, they forgot to tell the company that they were hiring the machinery from. They also forgot to tell First Buses to put the buses back on, so I had to sit and watch TV as Celtic beat St. Johnstone at home to go within one point of clinching the title.

Wednesday 4th
I was still packing about ten minutes before I had to leave home and catch a bus into town to take the overnight coach to London (see True Adventures for details).

Saturday 7th
In the midst of Wednesday's packing panic, I forgot to set the Sky+ box to record the Kilmarnock-Celtic game. Just to spite me, Celtic scored 6 goals without reply and played some wonderful football to win the league before the SPL split. Apparently.

Sunday 8th
Got home just after 8am and went for the Three Bs; breakfast, bath, bed. When I got up around 3:30, with my legs like tree trunks (fucking Megabus), I discovered that there had a been a domestic in my absence.

Monday 9th
Washing, shopping, more washing.

Friday 13th
Unlucky for some, particularly me, as I had to go to work. Had to rush home and pack for my next trip out.

Saturday 14th
Loaded up the car and headed for Lancashire for more True Adventures.

Monday 16th
Flooded the bathroom after I left the tap running whilst I went to tidy the stuff I’d  removed from the car.

Tuesday 17th
Washing, shopping and more washing (again) followed by the first rehearsal of the new term. Humourless and selfish fellow clarinettist (a rare beast) left me without a part for the new piece we were working on; the ‘Grande Valse Brillante’ by Chopin, arranged by Stravinsky (there just had to be a twist to it). Further news emerged about the shambles that was the application process in March.

Thursday 19th
Attended the final concert of the BBC SSO’s 2011-12 season, and what a way to finish. I was sitting in the back row of the Balcony, and had an unobstructed view of the stage. The concert opened with soloist Jennifer Pike playing the ‘Sonata For Unaccompanied Violin, BWV1001’ by J.S. Bach, then the orchestra chipped in with Vaughan Williams’ Symphony No. 4. This tired out the audience so much that it began to disperse for the interval however, we still had ‘The Lark Ascending’ to come. Embarrassed, people sat down again as Jennifer Pike returned. It is so easy to drift away during this piece. Not only does this do a great disservice to the soloist but it also tends to reinforce the description of RVW’s output as ‘cowpat music’. However, it’s not his fault, or that of the players and conductors involved. The blame can be laid firmly at the door of Classic FM and its obsession with charts and over-playing certain pieces, and this fucking ‘Hall of Fame’ shit.

The second half of the concert was given over to the 5th Symphony and here I was on more familiar ground, as I have heard this symphony more than all of his others put together. It was a triumphal end to the Thursday Night Series, and must have left the capacity crowd wanting more. I am curious to discover how Manze, the BBC SSO and the City Halls will cope with ‘A Sea Symphony’ and how long we will have to wait to see it performed.

Friday 20th
I became the owner of a Kindle, and proceeded to download some free books from the Amazon website, including a version of ‘The Duchess of Malfi’, which I am going to see in a couple of weeks time.

Saturday 21st
Went for a haircut, followed by much running around all over the place, and another M&S ‘collect by car’ cock-up. I despair sometime, I really do. Spent the afternoon trying to recover from a very (self-induced) stressful morning.

My first RSNO concert of this season (better late than never) turned out to be a gem. In front of an almost packed Glasgow Royal Concert Hall, and conducted by the legendary Neeme Jȁrvi, the orchestra delighted the audience with ‘Where the Wild Thyme Blows’ by obscure Scottish composer John Blackwood McEwen (1868-1948), Beethoven’s 2nd Piano Concerto (soloist Christian Blackshaw) and a magnificent performance of Sibelius’ 1st Symphony. The second half was well worth the ticket price alone, and it was followed by one of the most joyful encores I have had the pleasure of hearing; the March from ‘Boccaccio’ by Franz von Suppe. I can’t imagine my next RSNO concert will have such a happy ending.

Sunday 22nd
Slow day, and noisy, too, as the workmen turned up to fix the road (again). Celtic won 3-0 at Motherwell, and young Tony Watt had a dream debut, scoring two of them.

Here’s hoping that the rest of the month is like the end of March; tropical temperatures and a distinct lack of hailstones.



Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Plan your next getaway now

Travel is meant to broaden the mind, and getting away from home and work for the first time since the summer is meant to lift the spirits and blow away the cobwebs after a long, cold, dark winter. I went away for a few days last week; a trip I hoped would be the first of many over the next year or so, but which may, in fact, be the beginning of the end. I’ve not even had the chance to finish writing about it on the other blog, True Adventures. Through no fault of my own, I’m about to find myself trapped at home for the foreseeable future, the prospect of which is leading me to think that there won’t be a future beyond this short-term (?) hell. Tomorrow is another day, another day like this one; it’s not what I want.